


choke me like you hate me but you love me

by greyskieslatenights



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: "egirls are ruining my life" but make it wonchan, Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous Relationships, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bewildered pseudo-dom jww, daddy kink as a joke, eboy lee chan, simp jww, some semi-unsafe sexual activities, vaguely but it's not central to the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29992932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyskieslatenights/pseuds/greyskieslatenights
Summary: Wonwoo's senior year plans didnotinvolve fucking a freshman with a penchant for hair dye and being choked on the regular, but here he is.Chan might be out to ruin his life.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Lee Chan | Dino
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	choke me like you hate me but you love me

**Author's Note:**

> once again this is none of the fics i'm supposed to be working on but the idea of eboy chan and wonwoo's hands around his throat would NOT leave me so... here we are. the only thing i don't hate about this fic is the fact that it's wonchan lmao. also it's my first try at wonchan, hopefully it's good!!
> 
> also if any of y'all are going to experiment with breathplay, do NOT do it like wonwoo does dljfksjd do your research beforehand and do it SAFELY!!!!
> 
> title/concept regrettably inspired by corpse husband's [egirls are ruining my life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5d4SJv2d6M)

If you’d asked Wonwoo at the beginning of the semester what his senior year of university was going to look like, he probably would’ve told you that it would primarily involve hitting the books and trawling job boards to try and set himself up for an inevitably low-paying entry level job in the hopes that it would lead to something better down the line. The typical shit.

Instead, he got himself dragged to a frat party by his well-meaning but perhaps overly exuberant friends, spent an hour nursing a cup of jungle juice, and was about to call it a night before finding himself being tapped on the shoulder by a shorter man wearing an oversized band tee, ripped jeans, and what looked like at least two meters of silver chains wrapped around his neck and waist.

“I’m Chan,” he’d said, “and you’re hot. Wanna find a room?”

Wonwoo didn’t think he was nearly drunk enough for that, but the cocksure smirk on Chan’s full, glossy lips meant that despite his better judgment, that night had ended with Wonwoo leaning against the door of an empty bedroom and Chan on his knees, dangling earrings glinting in the moonlight as he sucked the life out of Wonwoo through his cock.

What he’d thought was a one-night stand quickly morphed into a second-night stand when he’d gotten a message request on Instagram from _clover_chan_ that read _i promise i’m not stalking you, i think soonyoung is our mutual friend, also if you come over to mine in 20 i’ll make it worth your while_ and while Wonwoo would like to think he’s above booty calls, the disappearing picture message of Chan palming his tented grey boxers made him throw all caution to the wind and Chan rode him so hard he’d forgotten his own name.

The second became a third, then a fourth, then Wonwoo stopped counting because even though they didn’t actually meet up terribly often it seemed in poor taste to keep a running tally. He hadn’t been one to date around or hook up much, preferring the company of a good book or a round of video games most of the time, but Chan seemed fine with working around his free time (and, oddly enough, wasn’t fucking anyone else in interim, presenting Wonwoo with a clean bill of health and asking Wonwoo to do the same.)

“Choke me, daddy,” Chan had laughed offhandedly somewhere around the tenth. They were still mostly dressed, lounging on Chan’s bed and making out lazily, Chan playing absently with Wonwoo’s fingers—Wonwoo’s hands seemed to dwarf the younger’s, his fingers long and slim compared to Chan’s stockier ones.

Wonwoo had never choked someone in his life (besides Soonyoung, as a joke, but that doesn’t fucking count, okay? Sometimes that guy just needed some sense shaken into him) but he wasn’t about to admit it. 

Unfortunately, it seemed like Chan saw straight through him, chuckling softly as he lifted Wonwoo’s hand up to his throat, palm resting ever-so-slightly against Chan’s Adam’s apple. Chan’s touch felt like a brand against his skin.

“Like this,” he said, flexing his fingers over Wonwoo’s, forcing them to press against his neck. “Not too hard, but enough for me to feel it.”

When Wonwoo wrapped his hand around Chan’s throat on his own ten minutes later, he’d fought hard to keep his hands from shaking. He was fairly confident he wouldn’t kill Chan, especially if he didn’t squeeze too hard, but he didn’t want to risk Chan passing out, either. He sure as hell didn’t want to be the one having to explain to anyone what had happened.

But Chan’s response was immediate, breath hitching as Wonwoo’s grip tightened and his ass clenched around Wonwoo’s cock, and soon enough he was coming hard, eyes rolled back and tongue poking out limp from his lips, picture-perfect _ahegao_ from the hentai he used to sneak furtive glances at when he was in high school.

(Wonwoo’s still not sure how he feels about the whole choking thing, but he’s not sure if he can go back to strictly vanilla sex again, either—on the occasions he does opt for a wank, it’s that image of Chan’s o-face that sends him over the edge every time.)

So when he gets a text from Chan, _can i come over daddy 😘_ popping up on his phone screen, he types back _okay_ before telling Soonyoung with a very straight face that he has a study group to get to, so he won’t be available to third-wheel Soonyoung’s movie date with Seokmin after all.

“You weak bitch!” Soonyoung calls after him as he speed-walks to the nearest bus stop. Wonwoo gives him the finger.

Chan’s already at his building when he arrives, leaning casually against the front entrance and scrolling on his phone. He’s dyed his hair ( _again_ —Wonwoo doesn’t know how he’s got any hair left when it seems like the younger cycles through hair colors every few weeks), this time half black and half dusty purple.

“Been waiting long?” Wonwoo asks, startling Chan, who perks up with wide eyes behind clear-framed glasses.

“Like, five minutes, maybe,” Chan replies, shoving his phone into the pocket of his joggers. He’s dressed more casually than Wonwoo usually sees him, in a grey plaid hoodie and black sweats, but he’s wearing at least a half-dozen earrings and Wonwoo’s pretty sure he’s wearing eyeshadow. He’s put some thought into this, like he always does.

Wonwoo hums in acknowledgement, punching in the code for the door. Chan follows him inside, and they take the elevator to Wonwoo’s fifth floor apartment in silence. Wonwoo’s still not good at small talk, and Chan seems content enough to shove his hands in his pockets and wait out the minute it takes for them to get to the unit.

Chan kicks off his Vans by the front door while Wonwoo hangs up his jacket, lets himself into Wonwoo’s room and plops down on edge of the bed, feet dangling just slightly off the floor. Wonwoo follows after him, closing the bedroom door behind him. He doesn’t really know why he does it—he lives alone, so it’s not like anyone’s going to walk in on him—but having four walls fully around him feels more secure. Like anything that happens within those four walls stays there, and nowhere else. An isolated incident.

(Wonwoo has a suspicion, though, that if he asked Chan for his opinion, the younger would disagree with him—he gets the sense that Chan would ask Wonwoo to fuck him in front of other people if he thought he could weasel his way into it. What’s more alarming is that Wonwoo thinks if Chan actually explicitly asked him, he’d have a hard time actually saying no.)

“How-uh-how’s it going?” Wonwoo asks lamely. It feels weird to him to just go for the sex right away, even though they both know that’s what Chan’s there for.

To his credit, Chan laughs it off. “It’s going fine. Better now that you’re here.”

A beat of silence passes. Wonwoo _really_ wishes he wasn’t so bad at the small talk.

“So,” Wonwoo clears his throat, “how do you want it?” Half the time they have fairly regular sex, but the other half of the time Chan will have a particular agenda in mind, usually involving something that makes Wonwoo have to suppress the urge to raise his eyebrows to his hairline.

“Be a little mean to me.” Chan shrugs. He tilts his head to the side, a faux-innocent smile on his lips. He takes off his glasses, folding the arms in and setting them neatly on Wonwoo’s bedside table. “I want bruises.”

 _Christ_. Wonwoo closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to get in the right headspace. Dominating the way Chan likes it doesn’t come the most naturally to him, but he’s gotten better at it the more he’s done it, especially if he thinks of it as a role to play, separate from himself. _Practice makes perfect_ or whatever. It’s easier because Chan isn’t docile in his submission, fights back in his sarcastic, biting way before Wonwoo “wins” even though they both know who’s really the one in control. It makes him feel like he’s actually earned the right to dom, instead of just taking as he pleases. Maybe he’s a little more fucked in the head than he thought.

Wonwoo opens his eyes, straightening up to his full height. “Strip,” he says, putting a little extra force into his tone.

Chan slides his hoodie off his head, tossing it to the foot of the bed; he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath, and his nipples immediately peak when exposed to the colder air in the room. The joggers follow, leaving Chan in his grey boxer briefs. His hands hover over the waistband, but he doesn’t move to take them off.

“I said strip.” Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Chan pouts. “But it’s cold.” He shivers a little, which Wonwoo suspects is purely for dramatic flair.

“And I’m supposed to fuck you with your underwear on?” Wonwoo scoffs. “Or I could just not fuck you at all.” 

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, walking toward the bed. He unbuckles his belt, undoes the fly of his jeans, and pushes his underwear down just enough to free his cock. He’s not fully hard yet, but he’s counting on Chan to get him there.

Predictably, Chan’s eyes flit downward before he looks pointedly in another direction. Wonwoo palms the back of his head, forcing Chan to look directly at him. Chan’s hair, despite the constant abuse it must take from all of the coloring treatments he does to it, is surprisingly soft, the strands sliding smoothly over Wonwoo’s fingers.

“Since you don’t want to take off your underwear, I’ll just have to use another hole instead,” Wonwoo says, directing Chan’s head in the direction of his cock. “You know what to do.”

Chan’s lips part, easily fitting Wonwoo in his mouth and running his tongue along Wonwoo’s shaft and balls. The hot, wet heat sends blood rushing downward in an instant; Chan moves a little further back once Wonwoo’s grown to his full length, but Wonwoo holds him firm.

“Gonna fuck your throat, Channie,” Wonwoo murmurs. “Be good for me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

He drops his hand from Chan’s hair and lets his fingers trail over the shell of Chan’s ear, toying with the piercings adorning his helix before he rests his palm on the side of Chan’s neck, thumb against the column of his throat. He does the same with his other hand, and Chan moans around his cock even though Wonwoo hasn’t even started anything yet.

Chan opens his mouth wider, relaxes his throat so Wonwoo can push in so far that Chan’s nose brushes his pubic bone. He swallows around Wonwoo, grasping at the older’s hips for leverage as he sucks, pulling his lips tight when he pulls back to the head and loosening again when it starts hitting the back of his throat. Despite his threat, Wonwoo lets Chan set the pace for the most part—Chan’s better at giving head when he’s in control, and Wonwoo’s not terribly interested in tempting fate by choking Chan with his dick _and_ his hands.

“Good boy.” Wonwoo runs the pad of his right thumb up and down over Chan’s Adam’s apple, distended ever-so-slightly. It’s a dizzying feeling, knowing that his cock is just under Chan’s skin.

It’s a featherlight touch, but Chan’s keyed up and hypersensitive, shivering as Wonwoo gives the tiniest squeeze, no more than a second. There’s a muffled noise that Wonwoo thinks might be _more_ or maybe _please_ but all he knows is that the tears beading in the corners of Chan’s eyes speak louder than he ever could.

He tightens his grip as he pushes deeper into Chan’s mouth; the younger’s gaze immediately loses focus and his jaw slackens, vibrating moans traveling up his throat and directly into Wonwoo’s core. Wonwoo counts to five in his head before he relaxes his fingers, watching closely as Chan blinks back to awareness.

Wonwoo releases his hold on Chan’s throat and tugs Chan off his cock by the hair, a thin string of saliva dripping down the center of his lip as Wonwoo tilts his head up.

“Hey,” Chan says, eyes glassy as he swallows the excess spit and precum in his mouth. His lips are shiny and swollen just like they are in Wonwoo’s godforsaken wet dreams.

Wonwoo leans down to kiss Chan hard, swiping his tongue into Chan’s mouth and swallowing down the moans he lets out. When he needs to breathe again, he breaks the kiss and pushes the younger further back on the bed, shoving his jeans and boxers off and yanking his t-shirt off over his head.

Chan’s splayed out on top of Wonwoo’s duvet, chest heaving as Wonwoo crowds him with his body—Wonwoo isn’t a particularly large man, but he’s taller than Chan and he uses his limbs to his advantage, caging Chan in so he has nowhere to go as Wonwoo pins his biceps down and grazes his teeth against his neck; he twitches as Wonwoo bites down near his collarbone and sucks, pulling skin into his mouth to leave a bruise behind.

When he sits back up, Chan’s obviously hard and leaking through his boxers, dark spot easily visible against the heathered fabric. Wonwoo palms at the bulge, rubbing his thumb along the wet patch before slipping his fingers beneath the elastic waistband and pressing the tip of his finger into Chan’s slit.

Chan groans through his teeth as Wonwoo yanks his boxers down, leaves them pooled around his ankles before manhandling Chan over onto his belly. He nudges Chan’s thighs apart so he can kneel between his legs, face-to-face with Chan’s delightfully perky ass. 

Wonwoo spreads Chan’s cheeks apart with rough hands, spitting on his hole before pressing the flat of his tongue against the ring of muscle, relishing in the broken moan the younger lets out, the way his hands clench at Wonwoo’s sheets as he works his tongue in. He smells faintly of body wash and tastes faintly of lube.

“Channie.” Wonwoo pitches his voice low and just a little threatening. “Did you play with yourself before you came over?”

“Had to— _ah!_ ” Chan’s voice breaks off into a moan when Wonwoo slips his index finger in, already familiar with where the younger’s prostate is. “Had to—make sure—I was clean—”

“And you needed _lube_ for that?”

“Wanted to be ready for hyung,” Chan says, fighting to keep his voice even as Wonwoo continues to rub against his walls. “Couldn’t help myself, thinking of hyung’s thick cock inside me.”

Wonwoo teases the tip of his middle finger around Chan’s rim. “What did you do to yourself, Chan-ah?” he asks.

Chan doesn’t answer at first. Wonwoo pushes his finger in deeper, down to the first joint. “What did I say about having to repeat myself?”

“Three fingers.” Chan’s voice is muffled against the pillow. “Three fingers, I— _ah!_ ” He gasps when Wonwoo crooks his fingers inside him again. “I—ah—wanted hyung to be the one stretching me out.”

“Did you come?” Wonwoo asks, lips a hair's breadth away from Chan’s inner thigh. It would be so easy to bite down and mark.

Chan shakes his head; Wonwoo can hear the rubbing of his skin against the pillow. “Doesn’t feel good when it’s not your cock.”

“That’s right.” 

Wonwoo _does_ bite down, holding Chan firm when he yelps, hips instinctively twitching away. 

“You said you wanted marks, Chan.” Wonwoo pulls his fingers out, grabbing his bottle of lube so he can slick up his cock. If Chan got up to three fingers earlier, he can take Wonwoo now. “I’m giving them to you.”

“Thank you.” Wonwoo can hear the smirk in Chan’s voice and he kind of wants to smack it off him, but instead he settles for drizzling lube in the cleft of Chan’s ass, ignoring his gasp at the chill and pressing the blunt head of his cock just past his hole.

Chan’s hips jerk back against him, lube squelching loud as Wonwoo drags his cock in and out, only ever getting about halfway in. Wonwoo watches as Chan’s ass swallows him up, transfixed at the way his hole stretches so readily around his girth, fluttering whenever it senses that Wonwoo’s pulling out a little too far.

“You look so good,” Wonwoo says, sheathing himself all the way inside, leaning down so he can whisper into Chan’s ear. “All tight around my cock. Like it so much you ask for it all the time.”

“All the time,” Chan repeats, voice a little slurred. “Want you to fuck me all the time.”

Wonwoo uses the full weight of his body to pin Chan against the mattress, keeping him immobile while Wonwoo pushes deep inside him, bottoming out with every thrust into the tight, wet heat. It’s stupid, because a hole is a hole but Wonwoo swears he could pick Chan’s out of a lineup blindfolded because it takes him in just right, like it was made in the shape of his cock.

With what little range of movement he has, Chan ruts against the bed every time Wonwoo fucks in, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to tell the younger not to. He likes knowing how Chan’s affected by him even when he pretends not to be, how far gone he is thanks to Wonwoo’s dick and how badly he needs his own pleasure.

Wonwoo tilts his hips up a little higher, at the angle he knows brushes past Chan’s prostate. Chan notices the difference immediately, fingers scrabbling at the sheets while his breathing morphs into pleasured groans and his ass clenches impossibly tighter and sends electricity burning all over Wonwoo’s body. The arousal is so strong it’s almost painful, Wonwoo’s mind spinning as it tries to remember the one way to let it all out.

When he feels familiar pressure building up between his legs, Wonwoo pulls out, grunting _shut up_ when Chan whines at the loss. He flips Chan over, the younger’s limbs splaying out weakly against the sheets as his dripping cock smears precum against his stomach. Wonwoo’s going to have to wash his sheets again, knowing how much Chan probably leaked while he was getting fucked.

He climbs up so his thighs bracket Chan’s chest and sits on him as he reaches for the bottle of lube.

“Open wide, slut, and maybe I’ll think about letting you come.”

Chan’s mouth opens obediently, tongue lolling out as Wonwoo squirts more lube onto his palm, pumping his cock tight and fast as pressure builds in his groin.

Grunting, he paints Chan’s face with his cum, making little effort to actually aim at Chan’s mouth. It spatters across his cheek and sticks in his eyelashes, and Wonwoo drags his fingers through it, pressing them against Chan’s lips. He doesn’t even have to ask before Chan’s curling his tongue around Wonwoo’s fingers, lips puckered as he sucks them clean.

“Good boy,” Wonwoo murmurs, moving back down between Chan’s legs, tossing his boxers somewhere off the bed, folding the younger’s legs up to go over his shoulders and sliding back into Chan’s still-wet hole.

Willing his cock to stay up for a few more moments, he thrusts into Chan hard, balls slapping against Chan’s ass as he pushes against the younger’s prostate. He places one hand on Chan’s throat, squeezing just as he feels Chan start to tense up, and wraps his other hand around Chan’s shaft, smearing the dripping precum around the head and jerking Chan off as he fucks into his fist.

A strangled yell forces its way out of Chan’s body as he orgasms, cum spurting messy down Wonwoo’s fingers and against his stomach, taut muscles arching his body up before he collapses against the mattress, hair splayed out against the pillow, stark against the white cotton.

Wonwoo leans back on his heels, lowering Chan's legs down to the mattress and moving his hands down to rest on Chan’s waist. He doesn’t pull out—Chan likes feeling the stretch inside him until he’s fully wound down from his high.

When Chan lifts one of his hands up to rest on top of Wonwoo’s, fingers curled loosely over Wonwoo’s own, the elder leans down to kiss Chan softly on the lips before pulling out and pushing himself off the bed to grab a pack of wet wipes from the bathroom. 

Chan sits up to reach for them when Wonwoo returns, but he nudges Chan’s hand away, pulling out a moistened tissue to wipe away the cum from Chan’s face. Chan’s fingers twitch, but he leaves his hands by his sides, leaning in slightly to Wonwoo’s touch.

“Thanks,” he says when Wonwoo cleans the mess off his stomach and thighs. “You really don’t have to, you know.”

There’s a certain matter-of-factness in Chan’s tone that bothers him for reasons he could probably explain if he stopped to think about them for a few minutes (but that idea terrifies him, so he won’t).

Instead, he says “I want to,” words thick from his too-dry mouth. He presses a light kiss against Chan’s cheekbone, using a wipe to clean off his own hands before settling down on the bed next to Chan, who curls up readily beside him. He tugs the sheets over them as Chan’s blinks noticeably start to lengthen, nuzzling his nose into Wonwoo’s sternum.

“‘m gonna fall asleep here,” Chan mumbles, muffled against Wonwoo’s skin. The sight makes Wonwoo’s chest tighten in a funny way and he kind of wishes it didn’t but also kind of likes it way too much.

“Okay,” is what he ends up replying, stroking Chan’s hair until he falls into slumber. He wraps an arm around Chan’s torso, keeping him close, and lets the warmth of Chan’s body and the steady cadence of his breathing lull him under.

**Author's Note:**

> why can't i write hookups without _feelings_ lmao
> 
> in retrospect i missed the perfect opportunity to make wonwoo a twitch streamer but like. i do not have the emotional wherewithal for that lol i'm sorry this is all i can provide.
> 
> catch me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/soft_coups) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/soft_coups)!


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